Summer of Dance
by magicharm
Summary: Summer is a dancer who just lost her mother. She gets transported to ME just before the battle with Sauron is over and there are secrets which have been hidden from her. Please R+R!!
1. Dance as if no one is watching you...

Chapter One – 'Dance as if no one's watching…' Earth to Earth Ashes to ashes Dust to dust 

Nerves of steel. That's what she used to say I had. Nothing would penetrate the barriers. Nothing _could_ penetrate the barriers. But now my fortress was crumbling. Feet pounding on the grubby Manhattan cement … what was I running from? The Academy? The dance? My mother? 

I was so used to performing dances choreographed for me. Now as I sprint down the sidewalks, I am performing my own dance. As I twirl and leap and dodge grey figures, and turn here and there, I realise when I stop and pant for breath that I am lost in the wide city. 

Circling around, I slowly take in the awkward skyscrapers and dreary bustle of the crowds, fear filling my cerulean orbs. I can feel wetness on my cheeks and I look up, expecting to savour raindrops with my tongue, only to realise that it is my tears that are staining my face.

My energy drained within a few seconds, I crumble on the sidewalk, as the crowd filters around me, ignoring my actions. I can still hear her voice in my head.

"I'll try to make it Summer, but you know how busy we are at the shop now…" "But mum, you promised! I can't believe how selfish you are!" 

Sobs hitch in my throat, my mind unwilling to acknowledge the loss. I knew she was gone the minute I leapt for my _emboité_. She used to say something else to me too: the show must always go on. And I listened to her. For once in my life I listened to her.

Fingering the pendant on my necklace, I was startled when a faint voice reverberated through my head.

Laire…follow… 

The name _Laire_ was unfamiliar to me, but something clicked when I heard it. Trusting my instincts, I waited for another instruction.

Beneath…the mallorn tree… 

Mallorn tree? I had never heard of that before. But something was nagging me at the back of my mind. A memory? Mallorn tree…mallorn…mallorn…

"Mummy, can I climb the big tree?" "It's a mallorn tree, darling. And it's a special tree because the elves live in it…" 

It had always been a fairytale game that I had played. My mother would tell me stories of the elves in the land of Middle-earth and about the tremendous battles that had been waged there. I had listened with open ears and eyes as my mother poured her heart out into those stories. I had just assumed that she was a great storyteller. Now I wasn't so sure…

The only mallorn tree I knew about was at home in our backyard. But home was miles away. The train I had taken took at least four hours to reach the Manhattan station. Plus I was lacking in the finance section.

Looking around I spotted a gigantic tree in the park across the street. I was impatient to see what was in store so I rushed across the street, rudely giving the finger to anyone who dared stop me. I was also well aware that I was still in my dance attire and that I would have been quite a sight.

Racing towards the tree, I felt a surge of anticipation wash over me. My instincts were raging with past memories, long forgotten from my childhood. When I reached the aged tree, I gazed at it for a minute, taking in its worn exterior and paling leaves. I could sense that it was in a lot of pain, the pollution of Manhattan wearing it away.

My mother always told me that I had a sixth sense towards nature. I used to tend a garden in our backyard during my free time and in spring it was the most beautiful sight to behold. All the flowers would be in bloom, the vegetable patch would be growing and our enormous tree would provide shade in the scorching sun.

Now I reached out to touch the withering bark, my hand trembling. When I felt its papery surface, I expected something to happen. After all didn't the voice in my head say 'beneath the mallorn tree'? Stopping, I realised how foolish I sounded. I sighed and grasped at the thought that I was going crazy to be listening to strange voices in my head.

Turning around, I was about to step back into the hectic Manhattan streets when I came face to face with a man with long blonde hair holding a dangerous looking arrow at my neck. 


	2. Faith builds a bridge from the old world...

**Chapter Two – 'Faith builds a bridge from the old world to the next…'**

//And all I feel is black and white// 

My throat burned, words unable to form. The strangely clad man suspiciously glared at me as my eyes wandered from the tip of the arrow to the intricate bow that he was holding. I noticed two other similarly dressed men standing a few feet away from us as well, wariness present on their pale faces.

"Who are you, and what is your business in the land of Gondor?" he asked, hostility masking his voice.

I opened my mouth to reply but the words I needed so desperately refused to come. As I remained silent, the tip of the arrow continued to forcefully sting, unwelcomed, at my throat.

"I ask again, who are you and what is your business in Gondor?" the man repeated, impatience dripping liberally from his voice.

Fear coursed through me when I noticed the two other men reach behind green cloaks and grasp onto sword hilts. 

Wait a minute, I thought, swords? And arrows? In Manhattan? My eyes shifted around, focussing on unfamiliar parts of a_ forest_, when I realised that I was no longer in any city. Huge trees towered over us and for the first time I noticed the sweet scent of flowers wafting through the area. 

But all this was forgotten when reality sunk in and I did the only logical thing that any one would do – I fainted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Blink. Blink. White fuzziness seeped through my vision as I tried to clear the haze that was my sight. There was a strong smell of herbs and I was lying on an extremely soft bed. As my eyes refocussed themselves, I noticed that the ceiling held a beautiful array of designs as I continued to gaze upwards.

I was startled when someone beside me cleared their throat. Whipping my head around, I immediately regretted that action as a ton of elephants stampeded through my skull. Groaning, I re-shut my eyes and brought my hands up to cradle my head. 

The person beside my chuckled and I shot them a glare that could kill. I saw that it was a man with reddish hair, his body bandaged up quite severely. 

"Lady, I mean not to laugh at you. But pray tell me your name, for you have been the topic of much gossip around here," he said, with a grin.

I was confused. Why in the world was this man speaking like he was transported out of the 1800's?

"Um…my name's Summer," I replied. 

"Summer," he repeated, testing my name out, "My name is Faramir, son of Gondor."

"I wonder at your clothing. Are you from the East?" he asked.

Looking down, I realised that I was still in my leotards and stockings. I glanced back up at Faramir's face to find him looking curiously at me.

"Um…I'm not sure," I replied.

"Not sure? How can you not be sure of where you come from?" he asked, confused.

"Well, for one, what country are we in?"

"Country? Well this is the city of Gondor in Middle-earth," Faramir said.

Middle-earth? My mother had once spoken of such a place. She would start off a bedtime story with 'Once upon a time in Middle-earth…' and launch into an exciting and adventurous tale.

I was bewildered at how I could have ended up in a place known only to me in fairytales. Clutching my head, I started muttering to myself, in hope that this was all a bad dream and I would be back in…back in Manhattan? Where I would have to face that my mother was…

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. I can't do this. I can't do this. I need to…

Lurching up, I leaned to the side of the bed and threw up. My vomit creating a disgusting swirl on the pretty tiles of wherever I was. As I continued to empty my guts up onto the floor, I felt a reassuring hand on my back rubbing soothing circles. 

Once I could no longer throw anything up, and the need to breathe was crucial, I fell back into the bed, exhaustion creeping back into my body. I could feel the oncoming slaughter of sobs. No, no, no, I was too strong for this, I'll find a way out, I'll…

//But I fear 

_I have nothing to give_

I have so much to lose// 

I noticed that Faramir had left, probably thinking that I was some nutcase that ought to be locked up. Can't say I blame him. Speaking of being locked up, I realised that I was trapped here in Middle-earth, without a clue as to what I was going to do. Being pretty certain that this was not just a nightmare, from the pain in my head and emptiness in my stomach, I shut my eyes, hoping that when I woke up, I could figure out what I was going to do.


	3. Reality or Illusion?

**Chapter Three – Reality or Illusion?**

_//I will walk unto the fire_

_till its heat doesn't burn me//_

Rolling hills and bright green grass. Gold and pink flowers spilt everywhere. Lonely clouds drifting high overhead. A figure far in the distance. Waving? My mind is not what is seems. I wave back, or at least I think I do, for the figure walks towards me.

I am running. Free as an eagle and as graceful as a butterfly. How I wished to be a butterfly. A pretty blue one with silver spots on it. The figure is hurrying now. Getting closer, and closer and closer. I see the familiar golden hair and the beautiful white dress that she is wearing. I want to cry out, to run into her arms and never let go. But I am frozen. Why can I not move?

Suddenly the sky darkens to midnight black and the figure distorts and grows. It soars beyond the clouds but I can still see her face. Her body shakes and her eyes burn an ember red. Through all of this I am still frozen. She raises her arm towards the heavens and silent screams spill from her ice-blue lips. 

I sink to the ground and start to scream. Scream. Scream.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My shrieks brought the Warden on duty running sleepily to my side. I was covered in a sheen of sweat, terrified by the nightmare. After I convinced her that it was merely a bad dream, the Warden returned back to her post, and I was left to stare at the designs of the ceiling again. 

It was my second night here, and I was already weary of this place. I had yet to see Faramir again and judging by the wounds on some of the men being brought in, a war was being waged outside the castle walls. 

I had no place to go, and I feared the day where I would have to give my bed up for a wounded soldier. I wondered what would become of me in this place. 

There was another lady here. The Healers called her the Lady of Rohan. If she were anything like me, then she would yearn to live this boring place for some fresh air. I longed to smell flowers, lie in dewy grass and feel sunshine on my face again. And all this after two days.

Sliding out of my bed, I dressed myself in my dance attire and worked on my _pointe_ as I crept silently out the nearby door. A spiral of staircases led me downstairs to a beautiful garden.  Mesmerised by the different flora, I wandered for hours, immersing myself in the fragrance and beauty.

A nearby bench served as my resting spot as I watched the sun rise over the horizon. A spectacular wash of purples, reds and yellows painted the morning sky. When the sun had bathed the lands in its golden shine, I stood. Using the bench as my _barre_, I stretched and did a few simple foot exercises.

Standing in the centre of the garden, the beat of my dance music sounded in my head as I leapt to a start. Twirling and reaching out, I shut my eyes and allowed my body to flow to the imaginary music. I danced my audition pieces, and I hadn't felt so exhilarated in a long time. It had been a while since I had danced for the pure joy of it. 

As my movements ran through my head, the hard _emboité_ came and a sudden fear ran through me. I was spinning and spinning and preparing for it, preparing for what had ended my career in dancing, when I painful thump, just as it had on the day.

Through the garden, I could see the disappointment so many faces, the whispered gossip circulating as I ran from the building, ran from the dance, ran from my mother.

As I lay there, crumbled in the grass, I yanked off my shoes and angrily threw them across the garden, screaming as I did. Then I ripped my hair out of its bun and ran my fingers through it roughly. I would not cry, I would not cry, I would not cry, I kept telling myself, too many tears have been shed already.

Nearly an hour had passed as I sat there, knees drawn to my body, rocking myself backwards and forwards, willing the pain away. I was so wrapped up that I did not hear the approaching footsteps. 

A woman came down the stairs and walked to the edge of the garden where you could see the castle walls. I assumed that this was the Lady of Rohan. She did not seem to notice me so I kept silent.

A few moments later, Faramir emerged from the stairwell and walked over to her. When she turned her head to greet him, I saw a deep sadness in her eyes. When they kissed, it was a gorgeous sight. You could see the happiness on both their faces. It was like _true love_.

I laughed out loud at that, shattering the their beautiful moment. Startling them, I continued to laugh at the absurdity of true love. I didn't believe in it at all. My laughter had now turned hysterical as I clutched my sides for air.

With confused expressions on their faces, Faramir and Éowyn walked over to me, hand in hand. When I had calmed down enough to speak, they looked expectantly at me.

"Why do you laugh so, lady?" Faramir asked.

Glancing up at the two of them, contented looks in their eyes, I wondered if there were such a thing as…no, there couldn't be.

"Where I come from, love such as yours is impossible. God, I wish a guy would look at me the way he does you," I answered, directing the later comment at Éowyn.

Her cheeks blushed a pale pink as she murmured a 'thank you'. She turned to Faramir and the look she gave him was one of adoration. He smiled down at her and I knew that I was oblivious to them of that moment.

Looking out to the bright sky, I could see threatening clouds coming from the west and the stench of death was slowly permeating the air. Frowning, I turned to the couple beside me who had also turned to gaze sombrely out into the sky.

"Is there a war being waged?"

Bewilderment crossed both faces as Faramir stated obviously to me with a grimace, "Yes, lady, there is a war, against the Dark Lord, Sauron."

Nodding, I turned back to the open skies with a feeling of dread. Inclining my head to the right, I saw, for the first time, the terrifying peak of a volcano. Ash and smog clouded the whole area and bright fires were lighting up everywhere.

A sudden chill ran down my spine as I lifted my head towards the peak of the volcano and for a moment a huge burning eye zapped before me, screaming in agony. Frightened, I quickly stood up, ignoring Éowyn and Faramir. 

Gathering my shoes, I scurried back up the stairwell, back to the bed. A fear I had never experienced had struck cold in my heart and I was shaking uncontrollably as I collapsed onto the bed. 

I lay there for hours, staring at the beautiful ceiling, trying to banish the horrible image from my mind. A slit of an eye, the black iris wreathed in flames which whipped and curled in every direction, stinging my mind and burning my thoughts as its wail pierced my ears.

_//And I will feed the fire//_

My food went untouched for the whole day, its smell sickening me as I pushed it away.  Through the day, the reek of blood increased and I knew that the war was almost over, but which side did victory go to? When darkness fell, I shut my eyes tightly, praying for peaceful slumber.


	4. Colours of the Real World

Chapter Four  - Colours of the Real World 

_//And I don't want the world to see me_

_'cause I don't think that they'd understand//_

An excited buzz flooded the morning air as I groggily cracked my heavy lids open. Healers were scurrying to and fro and patients had miraculously risen out of bed, as if the dawn of the new day had brought healing powers.

Sitting up, I childishly rubbed my eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight that bathed the usually gloomy room with its warmth. I stood shakily on my feet, still a little upset about the sudden horrible vision from the day before, before nearly being knocked over by a hurrying Warden.

"Lady, you are not dressed! Will you not join the celebrations?" she asked.

Not waiting for an answer, she pushed me away from my bed, my safe haven for the past three days, in the direction of two immense wooden doors with huge brass handles. The Warden pulled one of the heavy doors open with a grunt, leading me into a magnificent dressing room.

The room was already filled with thrilled voices and delicate looking figures. Many brushed past me before I was handed an emerald, ornate looking dress with ballooning sleeves. 

I looked at the Warden with a sheepish look and fingered the silky material that lay in my arms. Understanding my dilemma, she sighed in exasperation before commanding me to strip…in wide-open view of a room full of strangers. 

I stared at her with disbelief before she impatiently placed her hands on her chubby hips. I spun back around to glance around the room, but quickly turned a bright red when I saw the rest of the girls in the room doing as asked. 

Slowly, I removed the white gown I was given, my cold fingers brushing my arms and raising goose pimples on my bare flesh. Shivering, I dropped the flimsy material, which pooled like a cloud at my feet.

I was standing stark naked in the room (my undergarments had mysteriously vanished through the tree) and I could feel my face burning up with embarrassment. Bustling around me, the Warden quickly pushed my skinny arms through the sleeves while she fastened up the rest of the dress.

It was made of a beautiful material, silky in feel and light as a feather when I wore it. It was almost too good for me…

_"Mum! I can't take this!"_

"Just take it, you silly girl. I bought it for your audition. At least someone in the family will put these to good use."

No, no, no. This is not the time for hysterics, I told myself sternly. Keep strong, Summer, keep strong, keep strong, keep strong…

I noticed that my hair was being brushed and I was now standing in front of a full-length mirror. I looked at my reflection, oblivious to the tugging and yanking of my limp, strawberry blonde hair.

My face was gaunt - hollow sockets as my cheeks, cracked lips and dark rings under my eyes. Eyes…they were empty, devoid of feeling, dead. My mother used to love my eyes. She told me I had elven eyes, sapphire like the sea. Now as I stared at them through the mirror, I couldn't see one beautiful thing about them.

Disgusting, filthy, sickening, repulsive child. Nothing good will ever come of you, you are a pest. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting…

"Lady, hurry! The celebrations are starting!" the Warden yelled across the room.

Startled, I noticed that everyone had left the room. Turning back to the mirror, I saw that my grimy hair had been twisted up with a few strands left to dangle annoyingly in front of my face. Brushing the extra strands behind my ears, I hurried across the room, and outside, into the city of Gondor.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rainbows of colours flowed through my sight, banners gently blowing in the wind as I lightly treaded through the huge city. Gazing up, I saw the magnificence of the White Tower, crystalline in my view. 

Masses of people milled around me, a steady river of movement. I continued to walk, turning around occasionally, allowing my senses to soak in the splendour of the city. The joy and exhilaration seeping from around me made me giddy as I floated through the crowd, my body tracing familiar paths of stories told from childhood. 

Melodious voices circled the pavilions and sweet tunes from flutes drifted over my ears as they performed in perfect harmony. Perfumed scents from fresh flowers wafted by from one direction, while the enticing aromas of food fanned from the other. 

My senses were going on overload, as I spun around and around, my mind unable to decide which direction to venture to first. A piercing fanfare made my decision as the crowd hurried to an enormous gap in a wall, which I guessed used to fit a gate in. I allowed myself to be pushed with them, trying to keep steady on my feet. 

Body heat was melting me and I felt myself being squashed in the masses. Looking up, I saw a spoke of a nearby fence which was relatively close. Pushing myself through the throng, I nimbly climbed up the metal rod, and looked out into the distance.

I saw in the far distance, a great host of men being led towards the city. Banners sailed proudly in the wind and the men held their heads high. The armies glittered in silver, flashing their battle-worn swords and shields in the sunlight. On the side, other men rode gallantly on horseback, sticking to the sides of the armies. The multitude of warriors reached right to the horizon of the sea. 

I turned towards the gap in the wall, and saw Faramir standing behind the gap, as if a barrier stood in front of him and the vast land. Alongside him stood Eowyn, dressed in an elegant dress of burgundy. Around Faramir were gathered other men clad in their battle gear, some on horseback as well.

When the troops neared the city, they halted and a hush fell on the city. From the host of men, stepped a warrior, weary, but from his stance and gear, anyone could tell that he was someone of great importance. 

Walking with him towards Faramir were two other warriors, a wizened man clad in pure white and four short figures. A loud conversation from below caught my attention as I eavesdropped on Ioreth, the head Healer. 

"Those are _Periain_, out of the far country of the Halflings, where they are princes of great fame, it is said," she said.

Missing out on a few sentences, I caught the last few words, "…the Lord Elfstone: not too soft in his speech, mind you, but he has a golden heart, as the saying is; and he has the healing hands. 'The hands of the king are the hands of a healer'…".

I was not surprised to hear that the first warrior that had stepped out was a king. He emanated power that was required in being one of that status. I was, however, impressed that the four short guys who had walked in were 'princes of great fame'. 

A loud and clear trumpet rang through and complete silence fell. Faramir and another man walked forward, behind them four soldiers bearing a great casket. When Faramir met the king, he knelt before him and handed him a white rod out of the casket. The king took it but handed it back to him. 

Faramir addressed the crowd, listing at least ten names for the king Elfstone who stood solemnly behind him. Suddenly the crowd cried _yea_ in one voice and the sound carried through the city and out into the open fields. 

A crown was handed to the king who took it but handed it over to one of Halflings beside him. The Halfling then handed it over to the wizened man in white who placed it on the kneeling king's head. 

When he rose up, I noticed with amazement that he seemed…transformed, almost. He stood proud, an aura surrounded him, though I could not be sure because the sun was in my eye and before I knew it, I had landed sorely on the ground with a shriek, breaking the silence. 

The whole crowd turned towards me as I flushed a crimson red. My hair was now in a complete mess, having being blown in every direction by the wind and my dress was stained from the dirt. Disgrace flickered through the eyes of many _//so similar to the audition//_ as I picked myself up and ran blindly.

Cheers smothered me as the crowd supported their new king. Trumpets blared in my eardrums and the once harmonious tunes of the flute and voice now scratched against my raw muscles. 

_//This freedom is tainted with lies//_

I ran in circles, lost in the throng of people and endless dirt roads. Looking up, I located the brilliant White Tower and ran in the direction of the garden, desperate to immerse myself in its simplicity.

Hurrying up the stairs of the silent building, I raced through the halls and chambers, searching for the familiar scent of fresh grass and trees. Gliding down the stairwell, I was impatient to reach the haven.

Slowing down, I stepped into the garden, where I could still hear the hustle and bustle of the people of Gondor below. I sat on the bench for a few minutes, revelling in the soothing feeling that coursed through my veins. I allowed the sounds around me to meld into one and I shut my eyes. 

I stretched and did a painfully slow routine that I did years ago. Each step was as important as the last and each leap was crucial to your balance. I could hear the mourning sounds of the violins in accompany to the smooth rolling notes on the piano in my mind. My arms danced around my body as they moved in sync with my legs and feet, which stretched and pointed out in all directions. 

When I drew to a close, my dress blended into the grass and my legs folded gracefully beneath me for my last position, I screamed in shock when applause sounded behind me.  


	5. Wavering Images

Chapter Five – Wavering Images 

_//Your voice is small and fading_

_and you hide in here unknown//_

Swivelling around, I saw the wizened man in white from below and Faramir applauding at my dance. I gaped at them in surprise before they started to walk towards me. 

"Lady Summer, this is Gandalf the White, the most powerful wizard in the lands of Middle Earth," Faramir introduced the wizened man to me.

Blushing, I kept my head down, concentrating on the creases in my dress. Fingering the folds nervously, my head snapped up when one of them cleared their throat. 

Both Faramir and Gandalf looked at me expectantly, the wizard with his head slightly tilted, as if inspecting my clothes, my hair, my face, my movements, my stumbles, my cries, my…

_"Would you care to try again, Miss Adams?"_

"No, no, I-I-I'm sor…sorry…" 

A warm hand placed itself on my shoulder, making me shiver involuntarily. Looking up, I found myself staring into a pair of grey eyes filled with an infinite amount of wisdom. As I stared into the cloudy orbs, my sense of time vanished and suddenly I was nowhere…bleakness….oblivion?

I found my body responding to a set rhythm, as an imaginary hand guided me through the ethereal plane I was in. Images flashed, tears, smiles, shoes, laughter, yelling, music, blood…lots of blood…spilled across shards of glass that cut their way through my heart. 

Screaming…God, how I wanted the screaming to stop. Stop, end the pain, end the cloud which suffocated me and dragged me six feet under, as it did my mother. Yes, my mother, as far as I knew, was gone forever, buried deep in dirt which rotted her body away.

Images from the nightmare reappeared. The ghostly white of my mother's face. Her peeling lips which were stained a deadly blue; her molten eyes, boring into my soul, tearing me apart, searching for something that wasn't there. The pretty white dress was now tainted a midnight black as she chanted words…_//poetry//_…sending me spinning, twisting and writhing my way through…

I suddenly found myself back in my stationary body, staring into the now troubled eyes of Gandalf the White. Stepping back, I would have tripped over the hem of my dress if Faramir had not reached out and grabbed me. 

Steadying myself, I sunk to the ground and held my head. Words tumbled around in my mind, and stars swirled in front of me as Faramir and Gandalf the White were transformed into blobs of white on green. 

I faintly remember someone holding me and murmuring soothing words in my head, but that was all lost as tortured memories were wrenched from my subconscious, tormenting my very being. 

The horrendous sound of metal smashing against metal, glass shattering and the screams of those in pain. I could see my mother's distorted face as she cried out to me for help, while I was so selfishly trying to win my way into a prestigious academy.

Such a selfish brat, always thinking of herself, trying to be mummy's little girl and play nice, play in the dirt and be naughty because that's all you are, a dirty little…

One horrible memory flashed in my mind's eye, one that was long forgotten, locked away, never to be opened again. Words hurt me, and he was full of them, hurting me and making me wail in agony while I begged for forgiveness.

Father.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The soft murmuring of voices beside the bed awoke me to an incessant pounding in my head which I groaned in response to. Flickering my eyes open, I found four round faces gazing curiously into mine. Blinking furiously, I tried to regain my bearings and settle the rampage of questions which formed in my mind.

"Ah, Lady Summer, you have awoken at last," a voice spoke from beside me.

Turning my head, I found the familiar eyes of Gandalf the White. He had a sheepish smile on his face as he continued. 

"I apologise for any pain that I have put you through, Lady Summer. I merely performed a simple spell on you which ran a little out of hand, I'm afraid," he apologised.

I stared at him in shock. 

"A spell? You performed a spell on me!?"

"It was just a small charm to identify you, my dear. During this time, although Sauron has been defeated, we do not know what evil still lurks behind corners," he replied.

Still slightly exhausted, and definitely not in the mood for an argument, I sighed in resignation and let the topic drop. 

Continuing, Gandalf introduced me to the other people around my bed.

"This is Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. They are Hobbits. At the end of the bed is King Elessar, or Aragorn, crowned ruler of Gondor. And this is Legolas and Gimli," he said, gesturing to each person.

My eyes drifted from face to face, absorbing the rounded faces, sparkling eyes and worn exteriors. There was something comforting about their presences, something that soothed the raging battle within my heart. 

Sitting up gingerly, I noticed that I was back in the white dressing gown. My eyes widened in shock as I quickly and embarrassingly pulled the sheets up to cover my body. 

Chuckles erupted from all around, pink grazing the modest cheeks of the Hobbits. My cheeks and ears burned as I spoke up, "I'm Summer Adams."

Clutching the sheet like a lifeline, I looked up to see grins on all the faces. Shooting them mock glares, I only ended up giggling crazily like a schoolgirl. When I had calmed down, Aragorn asked, "Where are your origins, Lady Summer? You seem foreign to these lands." 

"Well…" I started slowly, unsure on how to explain, "I'm from a place called Earth. It's very different from here."

"How so?" one of the Hobbits piped up.

"Um, for a start, only humans live in my world," I replied. 

"What are humans?" 

"Oh, I think you just call them Men here. Like Aragorn and myself."

Astounded looks crossed all faces except for Gandalf's, which I found extremely odd and disconcerting.

"What else do you have on…Earth?" Gimli, the dwarf asked.

"Much like here, we have great evil as well. Although there are great and beautiful things in my world, there are a ton of things that have been done to make me ashamed of being human," I answered, bitterness colouring my voice.

"My kind has abused the power that we have, using it to kill our own people to achieve more and more control over the world. We dig up the earth for our own use, and lie to ourselves, saying that it will heal and everything will be sunshine and roses. But it's not, it's not."

Silence reigned the small, curtained space we were in. Jaws had been dropped, gasps elicited, eyes bulged, but all of that flew by me as I continued on.

"We create products which harm ourselves, tobacco, alcohol, drugs. Some of these, when used in the right amount can be useful, but again, we abuse them for our own enjoyment," I said angrily. 

"Are they no beautiful things in your world, Lady Summer?" one of the Hobbits, Frodo, I think, asked softly.

Glancing at him, his eyes that held great sorrow and pain, I gave him a small smile.

"Yes, there are beautiful things in my world. Love, hope, friendship, kindness; all the things which keep us alive. And I think that's what the mankind on Earth is still holding on to."

Seemingly satisfied with my responses for the day, Gandalf ushered everyone out, leaving me to rest. But before Aragorn turned to leave, he invited me to a dinner celebration that night at his castle. I shrugged absently, but the smile that played on his face told me he knew otherwise.

Excitement bubbled in me that night, as a handmaiden sent by Aragorn dressed me in a stunning azure dress embroidered in white jewels. Gazing in the mirror, I noticed that my eyes held a twinkle that had previously been dampened. I twirled around, allowing the dress to trail elegantly behind. The handmaiden had left my naturally streaked hair to tumble down past my shoulders while she twisted two small braids at the side. 

Before leaving, the handmaiden informed me that an escort would arrive shortly to accompany me to the castle. Thanking her, I sat down on my bed, and reached into the pocket of my purple jumper. I felt around the mess of gum wrappers and small change until I found the thin chain which I was looking for. 

Gently pulling it out, I stood in front of the mirror and clasped on the small necklace which my mother had handed down to me as a good-luck charm. Hanging in the middle of the silver chain was a small gold heart with intricate patterns on it. The tiniest words were inscribed on it but it was too small for me to read. 

A Warden with a cheeky grin on her face notified me that my escort had arrived. Giving myself the once through, I walked out of the room, for the first time in Middle Earth, ready to face the future.   


	6. Panic

Chapter Six – Panic 

_//As the walls are closing in_

_And the colours fade to black…//_

My silken dress flowing around my bare legs, I felt as if I were one of my lily pads, floating gently on the surface of the pond in our front lawn. I followed the butch lady in front, who led me through now darkened corridors and made sharp turns here and there. I briefly wondered how I would find my way back later that night. 

The heavy clomping of the Warden's feet drowned out my soft pitter-patter on the tiled floors as we neared one of the many gigantic doors. Swinging it open with a loud grunt, she stepped back, shot me a smirk and thumped her way back down the dim corridors. 

Stepping out, I felt the fresh breeze on my face and let out a soft sigh. Looking around, I nearly cried out in shock when I saw my escort right next to me. 

He was one of the people who had been at my bed this morning. Le…Legi…something or rather. My brain had been so muddled up that memories of this morning were now hazy images. 

I could distinctly feel his stare on me as I caught his eyes. He did not shy away as many had done, instead, he locked his hazel eyes with mine. It felt like hours before he started to speak.

"Good evening, Lady Summer."

Pale lips uttered soft words as my eyes quickly travelled over his features. His gaze on me was so intent that I could feel my cheeks heat up as colour rushed to paint my cheeks. 

"Good evening," I replied, head slightly lowered.

Suddenly a warm hand was on my chin as I felt my head being pulled slightly up and eyes to once again lock with my escort. I was surprised at his movement and cast my eyes in every direction. Sensing my discomfort, his fingers quickly released their tender grip on my chin and he formally offered me his arm. 

Tentatively linking my arm through his, he led me through the dirt roads of Gondor, twilight peeping through dark corners of the city. As he guided me towards the castle, I could sense stiffness in his body as we kept up an uncomfortable silence. 

Thankfully, the bright lights of the castle quickly came into view and the tempting scents of a feast teased my stomach. When we reached the main door and passed the stern guards, my escort led me towards a large dining hall which was slowly filling up with guests.

Glancing around, I hardly recognised anyone and a sense of loneliness crept up my spine. My escort, upon seeing other guests, had dropped my arm like a hot rod and deserted me. I stood, alone in the crowd who chatted amiably to each other and sipped at golden goblets. 

Slowly, I inched towards a corner in the great hall and caught glimpses of the eight who were present at my bed that morning. There were many fair people present, some with cascading blonde hair and others with regal brown. Fingering my streaked blonde hair, a sense of disgust flashed through me. 

You don't deserve this you filthy disgusting child. Trying to be good, running to mummy to hide…but where's mummy now?

I tried to shut my eyes against the foul voice that pierced my mind. It was so familiar, so frightening, that I shuddered at the thought. Images long buried resurfaced as I sunk to the ground in the great hall, hoping to disguise my quivering figure in the shadows.

What seemed like hours passed before a gentle voice welcomed the guests to the feast. Clawing at the wall, I managed to rise and stumble over to a nearby seat at the dining table. Strange figures seated their selves beside me and laughed with their neighbour. 

I picked at my food, maybe placing one spoonful of what was served in my mouth. I mostly sipped at the smooth wine, which trickled delicately down my throat and made me light-headed. 

All of a sudden a tap came on my shoulder and I spun around clumsily to face Aragorn. Glimpsing around, I noticed that everyone had finished eating and couples gracefully glided over the dance floor. Loud girlish giggles suddenly erupted from me, and it occurred to me that maybe I had drunk too much wine. Shaking my head, I gasped a 'no' to Aragorn, declining his offer to dance. 

"But Lady Summer, Gandalf has informed me of your wonderful ability to dance. Would you care to entertain my guests?"

Gawking at him, I nearly choked on the goblet of water he handed me. He then pulled me up onto the dance floor and the music suddenly stopped. 

I wasn't prepared, I couldn't do this, I would ruin it, I can't, I can't, I can't…

"Guests from lands far and wide, I have for you a special presentation. Lady Summer had kindly volunteered to perform for us. I have been told that she is a great dancer and I am sure that she will be brilliant," he announced, winking at me at the end. 

Claps sounded through the hall as I nervously wrung my hands and instructed the conductor of the music to be played. Nodding, he whispered to the orchestra as I timidly walked to the centre. 

The guests had re-seated themselves at the dining table and now waited with anticipation. I positioned myself on the floor, my legs shaking unsteadily beneath me, and my cobalt dress trembling around my body. 

My heart was pounding abnormally quickly and I was sure that the guests could see my chest heaving with nervous breath. Small beads of perspiration began to form on my forehead and the dim lights of the room now glared angrily into my watery pupils. 

I glanced uncertainly at the conductor, and gave a slight nod of my head. Nodding back, he lifted his arms in preparation. The room had now swirled into puddles of gold and red, mixing and blending before my eyes. I could barely discern Gandalf in a corner of the room, his white robes conspicuous in the crowd.

This new sense of fear for dancing was new and terrifying. The walls of the great hall seemed to be inching closer and closer, trapping me in, unable to escape from this prison of movement. My eyes shifted, desperate for an exit.

Suddenly I could hear the sweet tunes of the orchestra begin and a wave of panic swept through me. My whole body was now shivering, but not from the cold. I opened my mouth to protest but my voice would not obey. Only my legs _//something so small//_ supported me as I rose and escaped hell.


	7. Shadows on the Wall

A/N: If you want a disclaimer, it's on my review list. Also, the name _Laire Carn_, used below, means Summer Witch, which will be explained in later chapters. J Please R+R Chapter Seven – Shadows on the Wall 

_//So what would an angel say?_

_The devil wants to know…//_

Voices hurtled pass me as the intense atmosphere dissipated into the calming surroundings of Gondor. My breath hitched as I panted through the darkened streets, the lights from the great hall slowly dimming behind me. 

Of all things in the world, I trusted my legs, and now they guided me fearlessly through the unfamiliar paths of Gondor. Twilight skimmed the surfaces of alleys and the soft glow of candlelights illuminated strange shaped shadows. I could feel my blood pumping as I finally slowed down, blue eyes taking in black territory.

Suddenly a huge hand clasped over my mouth, and clouds edged into my vision as I tried to break free. Scrambling ineptly with my hands, a cool metal forced a dangerous path against my throat, and I fell limp, fear coursing through me. 

Pungent breath invaded my smell as a chillingly familiar voice hissed in my ear. 

"You can't hide forever, Laire. You will pay…"

I felt the hand on my mouth fall loose for a second, and grabbing the chance, I raised my mouth and bit hard. The man _//love, loving, loved//_ yelled in pain and the knife clattered to the floor as I vaulted out of his grasp. I sprinted out into the pitch-black streets, the moon, behind clouds, not aiding my escape. My eyes darted around helplessly in the dark, and the terrifying footsteps behind me inched closer and closer. 

I screamed in fright when a brash hand grabbed me and locked a death grip on my arm. Trying to wriggle free, the man slapped me hard and red seeped through the corners of my vision. Quickly, he bound my eyes and mouth with cloths and hoisted me roughly onto his shoulder, capturing me into terrors unknown. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

His jogging had ceased and I heard a door open quietly in the silent night. He dumped me into a hard wooden chair and I strained my senses to gain a sign as to what he was doing. 

As I felt coarse ropes dig into my wrists and ankles, my last glimmer of hope of escaping flew out the window. He bound them tightly, almost cutting off the circulation to my hands and feet. 

Suddenly the cloth covering my eyes was yanked off and I blinked quickly to adjust my sight to the dim candlelight in the room. His back was facing me, but I needed no face to recognise the voice.  

A glint of silver caught my eye and a petrifying sense of dread rushed through me and the sound of metal against stone further confirmed my fears. 

"Well, well, well," the man said, slowly turning to face me, "poor little Summer's all alone…who's going to save her now?"

I nearly sobbed in fright and desperation when my father's face came into view. A rampage of long-buried memories resurfaced all too quickly as I cried out against the cloth in my mouth. 

A small bitter smile appeared on his lips as he relished in my anguish. He dangerously twirled the sharp dagger in his hands, holding the blade against my cheek and making a carving motion. 

"Your mother was oh, so sweet," he began in a sing-song voice, tracing the knife against me, "always the perfect woman, trying to raise little Summer to be exactly like her, to escape what you really were…"

My eyes fearfully followed the pattern of the dagger on my body, and gave a small gasp when he nicked my cheek, a drop of blood which he held on his fingertip. 

"Ah yes, the blood of the _Laire Carn_. Pity, isn't it Summer, that no one else knows this? Long have I waited for your mother's death for the prophecy to be fulfilled, for my soul to be released from these mortifying bonds…and for my chance at immortality…"

With this, my father lifted the blood to his mouth, and much to my horror, sucked it off his finger. His face then contorted, a wicked smile gracing his lips and his eyes now tainted a sinful black. 

"You and your mother will pay for what you have done to me," he whispered smoothly in my ear, "and you especially, my precious Laire, will be my gateway to perpetual life."

In a flash, he had streaked the dagger against my throat. At first, everything seemed numb, but all of a sudden, a sharp burning sensation began at the base of my throat and speedily made its flaming path up my neck. I choked and gasped in fear and pain, feeling the thick fluid creep down the front of my dress. I had not noticed the crashing of the door or the yells of my father from beside me. 

My eyes watered and my tears tracked their way down my face and mingled with the blood dripping down my dress. My throat was now an inferno of pain and I felt light-headed from the loss of blood. Shadows of figures danced across my sight against the filthy walls and my hearing had been drowned in the screams of my body. 

My head rolled forward as I barely felt the bonds on my arms and legs loosened. A strong body lifted me out of the chair and lightly carried me away from the building and my encounter with the devil that I once loved. 


	8. Introductions of Friendship

A/N: Quel Marth (used near the end) means 'good luck' in Elvish. Chapter Eight – Introductions of Friendship 

_//Hiding behind walls_

_will you play with me?//_

The void that encompassed me twisted, swirling black and blood as one. My eyes shifted frantically, searching for an unknown source. Walls formed and my parents' faces morphed continuously, but I took no heed to their sweet eyes and wicked grins. 

I looked down, and saw myself dressed in the pretty white dress my mother was wearing. But something was seeping into it, turning the innocent white into an iniquitous red. Touching it, my fingers found the source of the stain at the base of my neck. Glancing at it, I dropped my hand indifferently and tilted my head up. 

A bright light flashed in slow motion before me, and daggers sluggishly travelled towards my heart. As the blades inched towards my body, I held up a pale hand, palm pointing towards the knives, and a blue light gradually formed from the centre, creating an orb. The orb crept out and impacted with the blades. An unexpected halt came and the daggers dropped, disappearing into the void beneath me. 

Suddenly, 'time' resumed, and frenzied whispers echoed from the walls, speaking in a strange language. I kept hearing the name _Laire Carn_, and as the whispers increasingly became more high-pitched, I slapped my hands over my ears to block out the screaming. 

Screaming, screaming, screaming. They kept screaming my name…stop it, stop it…why can't they just…

A cool hand pressed itself against my forehead, calming me immediately. I painfully gasped for breath, my neck wound not yet healed. Soothing words were murmured in my ear and a wet cloth replaced the hand on my forehead. 

My eyes drifted close for a moment before weakly fluttering open again. A fuzzy figure appeared and I blinked several times to clear the blurriness. A man with a soft face gazed worriedly back at me as his comforting words stopped. 

"How are you feeling, Lady Summer?" he asked gently. 

As I made to reply, the soreness of my throat reminded me of my wound as I croaked an answer. 

"My throat really hurts. What happened?"

The man sighed and turned his head away from me. I watched as he routinely removed the cloth against my forehead and soaked it in a wooden bowl beside the bed. As he wrung out the wet material and replaced it on my head, he spoke quietly.

"Perhaps we should wait till the morrow for the answers to your questions. Then everything shall be explained."

Impatience bubbled through me, but I nodded sorely in agreement. Giving me a small smile the man rose to leave, but paused when I scratchily called out. 

"Who are you?"

Turning around, his long brown hair wavered, revealing the tip of a pointed ear. My gaze wandered to his ear, and back to his face, a questioning look in my eyes. He merely followed the path of my eyes and gave a small chuckle at my curiosity.

"I am Elrond Halfelven."

I gave a numb nod, my attention refocused on the pain in my neck from the small exertions of the conversation. I heard the door click shut and relaxed back into the feathery pillow beneath me. I shut my eyes and drifted into a surprisingly peaceful slumber, hoping that the morning would bring answers. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A pleasant voice woke me the next morning, humming a cheerful tune. I cracked my eyes open to find the room flooded in sunlight. I gave a small groan at the chalky taste in my mouth and the annoying ache in my throat. 

The sweet voice stopped at the sound of my awakening, softly treading towards the bed. I slowly turned my head around to find myself gazing at a tall and beautiful brunette. Her complexion was pale and flawless, her dark brown hair tumbling gracefully down her shoulders while she wore an elegant aquamarine dress. The sight of her made me feel wretched and unattractive. 

"You wake, Lady Summer. How are you feeling?" she asked in a jovial tone.

"Crap," I moodily answered, her happy disposition irritating me immensely. 

Raising a perfectly curved eyebrow, she turned, walked over to a wardrobe and pulled out a lovely cream dress. Laying it on the chair of a nearby dressing table, she then proceeded to yank me out of the comfortable bed, paying no heed to my injuries. 

I yelped in pain and her grip _//death grip? No, not so sinful// _on my arm loosened. I spun around and glared at her. Ignoring me, she quickly stripped off my nightgown and pulled the silk gown over the top of my head. 

After lacing up the back, she plonked me down on the chair of the dressing table and commenced on the laborious task of untangling my hair. As she determinedly tried to brush my hair without having to jerk the brush out, I sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry I was such a bitc-…so rude just now. But waking up after having your throat slit open isn't the best feeling in the world," I apologised, and catching the slang in my sentence. 

The lady paused and through the mirror, I saw her smile understandingly at me. Her cheery mood returned and as she continued to brush my hair, she introduced herself.

"I am Arwen Undomiel. I believe my father visited you last night?"

Looking at her closely in the mirror, I realised that she _did_ bear a great resemblance to the man who took care of me. Plus, her ears did seem a little pointed…

"Yeah, he was really nice."

Arwen put down the brush and proceeded to braid the sides of my hair as she continued speaking, "Yes, he is an elven healer. I apologise for being so rough when I pulled you out of the bed, but we are running tight on schedule."

"What's happening?"

I watched her nimble fingers through the mirror swiftly braid my hair, her eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. Once she had finished one side, she answered my question before moving on to the other.

"Well, after breakfast, many of the wise, including my father, in Minas Tirith wish for your presence in the hall."

"Minas Tirith?" I asked, puzzled.

"The elven name for the city of Gondor. Many far and wide were invited for the celebrations yester night."

At the mention of the night before, I battled hard to fight the tears and pain, ignoring Arwen's looks of concern. I was far from overcoming my encounter with my father, but I pushed my emotions just beneath the skin, fearing if I pushed too far, I would be forever haunted. 

"Lady, what horrors of the past ail you?"

I shook my head fervently, not wishing to reopen fresh wounds _//wounds will never close, bleed, bleed, bleed//_. Respecting my wish, the elven-maiden continued to braid the other side of my hair. Carefully avoiding the topic and further questions, I feigned curiosity.

"What else is happening today?"

A dreamy look flashed across Arwen's orbs, before she quickly turned back to my hair, hiding a blush.

"Preparations for the wedding," she replied bashfully.

Pretending to be really dumb, I pressed on, "Who's wedding?"

She mumbled an answer that I did not catch, so I repeated the question.

"Mine to the Lord Aragorn," she replied equally as quiet, but I caught it as I strained my ears. 

I gave a gasp of delight as I swivelled around and congratulated her. Her pale cheeks flushed a tomato red as I hugged her and she continued to fill me in on the preparations for the big day.

After a delicious breakfast, which Arwen had brought up to the room when she came, she led me through the wide and beautiful surroundings of the castle to the hall. Antique portraits stared at me through ancient eyes _//the eyes of the devil? No, I loved the devil//_, and landscape paintings detailed the splendour of the land of Middle Earth. 

The castle was not unlike those I had seen in the movies back home. But my memories of home were quickly becoming hazy, having forgotten some of the simple details of life. Just the thought of forgetting home struck a fresh pang of homesickness in my heart as I dearly missed my mother.

Huge doors suddenly loomed before us and I was snapped out of my reverie. Before beckoning the guards to open the doors, Arwen pulled me aside and whispered, "Do not worry yourself, my Lord merely wishes to find what role you play in the course of our land. _Quel marth_, Lady Summer."

Arwen muttered a couple of words to the stern guards and they obediently swung the great doors open. Taking my hand comfortingly, she guided me into the hall, towards a huge and long stone table, filled with solemn faces, and which at the head sat Aragorn. 


	9. Angel of Death

Chapter Nine - Angel of Death 

_//God knows even angels fall//_

Shimmers of light filtered through heavy curtains into the ancient hall and played with the shadows of the sombre figures seated at the table. Grave faces tilted slightly as Arwen led me to the head of the table. I nervously shifted my gaze from face to face, too terrified to hold any for fear of the truths held behind their stony expressions. 

I saw one of the Hobbits seated in the large seats, looking lost and engulfed by the room full of taller people. I gave an inward smile and caught his innocent but sadly tormented blue eyes when I passed by. Nearing the head of the table, a voice, which I recognised as the one who beckoned me to the mallorn tree back home, suddenly whispered in my head.

_Embrace your destiny Laire. _

I looked around confusedly, trying to identify the stranger in my head. My eyes caught a gleam of golden hair and piercing eyes caught mine as the voice, which undoubtedly belonged to the mysterious lady, filled my head once again. Her pale lips made no movement, but it was plain that she was talking to me.

 _Your fear will bring the downfall of many…_

Harsh truthfulness filled her eyes as I broke her gaze, dread filling me as my feet led me closer and closer to a reality that I had thought non-existent until I landed in Middle Earth. 

Suddenly I found myself alone and at the front of the long table, with Aragorn occasionally shooting me reassuring glances. My stomach has started doing flip-flops and my palms had begun to sweat; I was puzzled at my sudden anxiety. 

"Lords and Ladies of Middle Earth," Aragorn commenced, rising from his seat, "I have gathered you here in the white city of Gondor, not only to celebrate the defeat of Sauron, but also to reveal a prophecy."

At this, looked pointedly at me before continuing. 

"As Lord Elrond had told me when I was but a young child, there was a infamous tale of a lady who possessed a flair of grace, a sparkle of beauty, and enough magical power to rival even that of Gandalf the White, or as some of you know him, Mithrandir.

"But unfortunately, this woman was created at the hand of Sauron himself, though born and bred in human hands, her purpose in life was to serve the Dark Master."

Murmurs filled the room as some of the guests seemed to remember a tale once told long ago. I felt someone's sharp stare on me and I knew at once that it was that mysterious lady who had spoken in my mind. Trying hard to not look at her, I kept my head down. When Aragorn started to speak again, silence settled.

"The parents of the child, once having discovered her fate, fled Middle Earth through a portal. Not much is known about the world on the other side of the gateway, but there they stayed, living in secret away from the threat of Sauron.

 "The rest of the tale, I do not know. But Lord Elrond has the prophecy, after it was discovered, hidden in the great libraries of Rivendell."

I watched as Aragorn sat down heavily in his chair, allowing Lord Elrond to continue with the tale. The elven healer stood, a frown marring his face as he gave me a concerned look before beginning to speak.

"The prophecy which Aragorn speaks about is gone. The paper had crumbled into dust the moment the Ring was destroyed. Thankfully, I had a chance to study it before it disintegrated. 

"The father of the child, after many years, began to be tempted by Sauron, who had found a loophole in the portal and a weak spot in the father's mind. Much like Sauron, the child's father craved power and the Dark Lord gave him false promises in return for the child. 

The mother, once having discovered her husband's plans, lured him back to the portal and into Middle Earth. She then closed the portal with a spell she had learnt and was left alone to raise the baby."

A cloud of suspicion began to grow in my mind as Lord Elrond paused before speaking again. Self-consciousness suddenly became an issue as I could feel more eyes on me as the story, or prophecy, began to draw to an end.

"The child blossomed into a woman, never knowing about her true origins or home. After the death of her mother, the portal was once again opened, as she was the only one left in that realm, and she returned unknowingly to Middle Earth. Unfortunately for the Lord Sauron, her arrival came too late and his destruction had already begun."

"What was her name?" one of the elves at the table asked.

My breath felt short and shallow as I waited for the answer from Lord Elrond's lips. I paid no heed to the worried looks from around me. 

"Her name was _Laire Carn_, meaning Summer Witch."

Time seemed to have frozen when my _//is that my name?//_ name was uttered and the tale which had just been told seemed to fit oh-so-perfectly into the jigsaw which was my life. At first my emotions were numb, the realisation not having sunk in. 

I could hear whispers all around me and my name kept circulating through them. Comforting hands clasped onto my shoulder but that triggered a spasm of anger through me. 

Lies, lies, lies. My whole life was a lie. Who am I? I trusted my mother…how could she do this to me? How could she… Who am I, who am I, who am I?

"Lady Summer, listen to me," Aragorn's voice floated into my ear. 

All I could see, feel, taste was this burning hatred through me. My eyes darted wildly about as I tried to grasp onto a realism that was not built of deception. So many figures, so many people kept coming closer and closer, trapping me with their lies.

"NO!" I yelled, blinding fury controlling me, disgusted at the tears of weakness that trailed down my red face. Someone's hand reached out and took me by the arm. I whirled on the person and screamed, "Don't touch me!"

Everything after that seemed a blur. All I remember was my rage commanding my body to attack, as I raised my hand and an invisible force pushed out of my palms, sending the person who had grabbed my arm sailing across the room, into the wall where he collapsed. 

After my anger had been channelled, I fell to my knees, weakened instantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw figures running to the poor man who had been the object of my fury. My hands had begun to tremble as I raised them to cradle my head, rocking backwards and forwards. 

Who am I? I'm so sick of all these lies, so tired of them. God, what kind of monster am I?

A soft body knelt down to hug me and I recognised the sweet perfume to be that of Arwen. I sobbed over her shoulder and kept mumbling, "I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home…"

//So much anger, so deeply ingrained,  
seemed a burden that was hers alone.  
She didn't think that there was anything wrong   
with wanting a life that she could call her own.//


	10. Fearing the Essence

Chapter Ten – Fearing the Essence //But I'm so scared, 

_so scared of my footprints down destiny's path//_

My mother often used the cliché, 'destiny is what you make of it'. I remember always repeating after her in a teasing tone as she had said it so many times. Now as this dangerous energy began to form inside of me, I started to take her words to heart. 

Many days after the incident in the hall, I refused to talk to anyone, starving myself in the process. I remember feeling so weak at one stage that I had collapsed on the bed, too faint to even move. As I ran my hands feebly across my rake-thin body and felt my bones protruding through the sallow skin, I recall welcoming death to end my shallow misery.

At this point, I had stopped bothering to answer the concerned knocks on my door and faintly remember someone climbing through my window and yell worried instructions to someone else below. His melodious voice carried through the room as I drowsily cracked my eyes open. A flash of blonde hair met my sight as I collapsed back onto the bed with a soft moan.

I heard a click of the door and strong male hands that seemed strangely familiar and which smelt of peppermint gently lifted my body up and a warm liquid trickled soothingly down my throat. He murmured quiet and gentle words in a different language that slowly lulled me to sleep.

I awoke to a soft body next to mine, with strong arms encircling my waist. I froze in fright, wondering who the hell was lying next to me. I slowly opened my eyes and turned my head around, only to meet piercing blue eyes, similar to mine. I cried out in shock as he laid a finger on my lips, quieting me. 

My eyes narrowed in gradually bubbling anger and I leapt out of the bed, away from the elf who I recognised to be Legolas.  

"What do you think you're doing in my room?" I hissed. 

The impudent elf merely raised an eyebrow and smirked at me.

"Well, Lady Summer," he spoke in a sly tone, "considering that I was the one who saved you from starvation, _you_ should be thanking _me_."

I merely gaped at him, but before I had the chance to answer back, Arwen glided into the room with a handful of garments. When she noticed me standing, her mouth dropped in surprise as she dumped the pile of clothes on the bed next to Legolas and embraced me.

"Oh, Lady Summer, I was so worried about you! How are you feeling?" she asked in a rush.

I simply nodded my head in response, never taking my eyes off Legolas who lounged on my bed, rifling through the ornate garments that Arwen had brought in. Arwen gave me a long look before walking over to the bed and shooing Legolas out of the room. 

"Leave you mischievous elf! We have lots to prepare for Lady Summer's training with my Grandmother."

"W-wh-what training?" I stuttered, nervously watching Legolas inch out the door and shut it, but not before shooting me a grin.

Arwen, once the elven prince had left, proceeded to dress me in one of the cream silk gowns as she explained.

"Lady Summer," she began.

"Just call me Summer," I interrupted in a muffled voice through the dress. 

When my head peeked through the dress, she gave me a wide smile before continuing.

"Summer," she started again, "my grandmother, the Lady of the Lothlorien, wishes, and has been granted permission by the council, to guide you in the ways of magic to harness the incredible power in you."

I watched Arwen braid my hair as I sat deep in thought. I realised that unless I took these 'guidance lessons' with the Lady of Lothlorien, there was no possible way of returning home. But if I managed to learn magic…maybe I could reopen the stupid portal that brought me here. 

I saw Arwen look at me in concern as she become aware of my bony figure in the mirror. I noticed what the days of locking myself in my room had done and I felt a lack of confidence wash through me. 

What was I thinking? Learning to dance is one thing, but learning _magic_? I can't do this! Damn it! 

But my thoughts halted when Arwen laid a comforting hand on my shoulder, looking at me through the mirror. 

"Summer, have faith and you _will_ succeed. Trust me."

I gave her a weak smile before she ushered me out of the room to the Lady of Lothlorien. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The soft murmur of the sparkling creek and the lush green scenery that surrounded us enchanted me. Soaring trees swayed their branches in the gentle breeze as the wind playfully swept my hair across my face. There seemed to be a strong pull in the thriving area as if…_it was magic…_

Smiling, I kept in pace behind Arwen as she led me through the splendour of the hidden grove. Pausing for a moment, I quickly knelt down to sniff a beautiful flower in a bed of blossoms. Inhaling the sweet scent, a dreamy look overcame my features before I rose to continue down the tidy path. I looked this way and that, taking in the splendour of this secret garden that had been cleverly concealed behind the castle hedge. 

There was a small waterfall nearby, and I was surprised to see the flourishing vegetation flourishing around it. During the time of war, I did not think that the plants would have been able to survive. A pillar of marble wrapped in climbing ivy caught my attention as I gingerly traced the velvety path with my finger. Whispers suddenly filled my head and startled, I hurriedly pulled my finger away from the creeping plant, as if burnt, and continued to follow Arwen. 

Having voices suddenly and constantly fill my head was disconcerting, and a frown appeared on my face. I hoped this Lady of Lothlorien would be able to provide me with some answers. Wrapped in thought, I bumped into Arwen, not noticing that she had stopped. 

Muttering an apology, my words trailed off when I glimpsed out from behind Arwen to see the verdant surroundings of a blossoming pavilion. Flowers decorated the edges and towering trees continued to loom outside a ceiling of glass. Ivy swept down from the panelling, framing the thin pillars that supported the pergola. 

Sitting on a carved bench, was the Lady I recognised from the council of my prophecy; the one who had spoken in my mind. If it was possible, her hair seemed to glow even brighter in the surrounding nature, and her blindingly white clothing appeared to emit its own aura. 

I stared in disbelief as Arwen gracefully stepped into the pavilion and whispered a few words in what I discovered was Sindarin, an elven language. The Lady nodded and captured my eyes as she gazed out. Kissing her grandmother on the cheek, Arwen departed after shooting me a reassuring smile. 

The Lady beckoned to me and I timidly walked towards the breathtaking pavilion. As I stepped in, my foot barely lifted from the last step, an intense feeling engulfed me and I gasped in shock. Glancing at the Lady of Lothlorien, I found that only her eyes held emotion as she motioned for me to sit on the bench across from her.

As I settled into the wooden seating, her clear voice filled the pavilion.

"Laire, you were born into this world for a specific purpose. It matters not that Sauron has been defeated; evil will always remain in this world," she said, a sad tone slightly colouring her voice, "Thus, I have chosen to take you on as my scholar, to train you in the ways of elven magic and to discover the true power in you."

 I sat in thought, absentmindedly folding the creases on my dress as thoughts rampaged through my mind. If I started this, there would be no going back. Looking up, I saw the Lady gazing at me expectantly. I nodded my agreement and an expression of approval appeared on her face. 

To begin, we both knelt on the floor of the pavilion as she began to instruct me on meditation. Shutting my eyes, I allowed my mind to roam free as the Lady's voice began to dim in the background. Wandering the expanse of my mind, I discovered that my subconscious had divided up the good memories from the bad, storing them in different areas.

Suddenly two paths formed in my 'mind-sight', one leading to an open field of blooming flowers, and the other down a dank corridor. Fearing the alternative, I treaded into the open field to find my mother and my younger self, spinning and dancing joyfully in the meadow, occasionally collapsing in giggles. 

A smile appeared on my face and I stretched out a hand to touch the memory, but before I could, the image fizzled out and was replaced with a picture of my father when he still loved my mother. He stood laughing with her before picking her up and twirling her around. I could feel the onslaught of tears come and I let out a sob of grief and frustration.

This was when the Lady of Lothlorien pulled me out of my meditation. Startled at the change of atmosphere, I blinked hazily, tears still forming in the corners of my eyes, before her crystal voice pierced through my muddled brain, "You will have to face him, Laire. Running will not solve anything."

A look of compassion and understanding had clouded her features. I kept my head down and allowed a long silence to spread between us before I whispered in reply.

 "But I'm so scared."

I felt her thin fingers on my chin, lifting my head up to meet her wise and acute eyes. 

"So are all who walk down destiny's path blindfolded - but you will learn to use your other senses to guide you through, for that is the key to survival in this world."


	11. Broken Burdens

Chapter Eleven – Broken Burdens 

_//And look at the child with a dream in her eyes,_

_holding it deep inside//_

My mind twirled quickly, forming the reality-image in my mind, allowing me to see my surroundings with the dark sweet-smelling cloth blindfolding my eyes. First, blurred patches of green began to form, before shades of brown and yellow were introduced. I concentrated hard on the colours as the smears began to take shape. 

I could feel the power radiating from the metallic indigo orb in my palms, and the temptation to throw it was increasing by the second. Beads of sweat began to form on my forehead, soaking the cloth. My breaths shortened considerably and I could feel my arms weakening from the weight of the orb and the force of the magic. With a pained grunt, I allowed my body to be overcome by the enchantment flowing through my veins, and pushed the orb from my hands into a nearby tree. 

On contact with the metallic orb, the tree shrivelled up instantaneously, withering to a pile of ashes in a few seconds. Once the orb had left my hands, I immediately relaxed and my mind's eye was filled with soothing darkness once again. I collapsed on the soft turf of my training grounds, relief flooding through me as I wearily yanked the cloth binding my eyes off. The Lady watched me closely. 

"You have improved since your last lesson, Summer. I have noticed your will to control the power urges have enhanced."

I tilted my head to the side, peering tiredly at the Lady Galadriel. Compliments from her were hard to come by, and I allowed an exhausted smile to grace my lips. 

"I thank you, my Lady. If it isn't too much, may I have the rest of the day off?"

It was nearly dusk by that time, and dark clouds floated in the sky, a warning of an impending storm. They blocked the last rays of sunshine, covering the land of Gondor in an early shadow. The Lady nodded, briefly waving me off as I darted off, yelling my thanks on the way. 

The Lady always instructed me in the serene surroundings of the hidden garden behind the castle walls. As I ran through the narrow stone paths, I noticed the early twilight shimmering on the petals of the Flowers of Sundown. Beautiful midnight blues and hazy violets littered the silhouetted floor. 

I swiftly ducked through creeping ivy, familiarising myself again with the concealed area in the garden that I had discovered a few days after I began my lessons. It was a pool, crystal in the impending darkness, but refreshingly cerulean in the day and was cleverly veiled by a curtain of assorted flowers. 

My steps slowed down to a brisk walk as I began to remove heavy garments of clothing from my sticky body. I tiptoed through the curtain of flora, smiling as I entered the revitalising sanctuary. 

Peeling off the remaining clothing, I dipped a tentative foot in the water before swiftly diving in, allowing the comforting darkness of water blind me. I gave a sigh of bubbles in the cool water, before popping my head up and floating on my back. 

I had spent two weeks with the Lady of Lothlorien, and already I had learned so much about my powers and the paths in life I was destined to walk. But what worried me the most in the beginning week was that my memories of home were rapidly fading, and I began to develop a desperate case of longing. 

It was a sort of twisted bout of homesickness where I would often wake in the middle of the night, calling frantically for my mother, or screaming for help from my father. I would often suddenly burst into tears at the slightest mention of anything related to family. That was when the Lady Galadriel began to instruct me on keeping my emotions at bay, and controlling my subconscious mind.

I felt the cold water flow between my fingers and toes, brushing icy fingers along my legs and shoulders. My hair spooned out in the water as I felt a chill run up my spine and decided to head back. I took a deep breath and plunged under the water, slowly swimming back to the bank where my clothes were.  

Suddenly I seemed not to be swimming, but floating in the water. My conscious mind had unexpectedly disappeared, leaving my subconscious to drive my body. I felt myself twirling around in the water like a mermaid and imagined my hair streaming behind a sleek body. 

The need to breathe soon became crucial and my body began to fight its way for air, but my subconscious continued to push me down into the darkness below the reeds. I stretched out my hands, clawing at unseen walls in the water to reach the surface, but I kept imagining my father's hands pushing me, pushing me, killing me…

But then it was replaced by a very unexpected feeling. Flashes of rainbows appeared in my mind's eye, and a sense of…euphoria, maybe, swept through my body, eagerly welcoming the watery darkness. 

I continued to float in a state of ecstasy, and dark patches slowly began to creep into the corners of my eyes. Suddenly a pair of hands were dragging me _//down, down, down, sink into misery//_ out of the water and a cloak was draped over my shoulders, though it did nothing to quell the chill that shook me to the bone. 

Words, words, words. Yelling? Whispering, maybe. I can't tell, but something smells like peppermint. God, how I loved peppermint…

I gazed curiously at the person who had dragged me out, nothing actually registering in my numb state. Blonde hair, lots of blonde hair…a chiselled jaw, sharp eyes, soft lips…

I blinked in confusion, my conscious mind finally regaining control of my body, before recognising who was actually yelling at me.

"What do you think you're doing?! You could've died, you stupid mortal!"

Ah, Legolas. My knight in shining armour…

I snorted at the idea. This seemed to catch the elf's attention as he glared at me. I noticed my undressed state and raised an eyebrow at him. I thought I caught a faint blush tint his cheeks, but the overhanging clouds might have fooled me. 

He just shrugged his shoulders before reminding me of my very possible death in the pool. I blocked out the rage in his voice, sitting myself on a nearby rock, and wondering how he found the pool, and why he seemed so concerned about me in the first place. 

Suddenly his tone fell soft, and I shifted my gaze to him. He noticed my questioning gaze and sighed before repeating the question. 

"What were you doing Summer? You know suicide is not an escape."

I snapped my head to him, anger quickly rampaging through me, pushing to the surface. Suicide? How dare he even try to reason any of my actions? His innocent face set it off, and I let all my bottled rage loose on the insolent elf.

"You don't know _shit_ about me, Prince Legolas. Don't think you can come, marching your pompous ass in here, rescuing your stereotype damsel-in-distress to find fame and glory. I don't need rescuing, and I certainly don't need you."

His stunned expression was all I needed. I grabbed my clothes off the grassy bank, sprinting for the castle. I ran through the garden, angry tears tracking their way down my face. I moved to swipe them away, before I felt a warm hand stopping my arm. 

Bright blue eyes met mine and I cried at the concern held in them for me. Legolas' fingers reached up to my face to brush the tears from my face, before I felt drops of rain drip from the dark, clouded sky.

Standing there, we were soaked through in a matter of minutes. His fingers were still on my cheeks when he whispered in my ear, "What are you running from, Summer? What keeps waking you in the night?"

He pulled my head to rest on his broad chest and I wept. He cradled me there, standing naked except for a cloak, in the rain as endless tears poured out of my eyes. He held me in a strong embrace, and I could almost feel his surprising want to share the burden with me. 

I was silent on the way back to the castle, and as I was escorted back to my bedroom in a numb haze, I came to a sudden realisation. Legolas, Arwen, Faramir, all the people I had met in Gondor had a dream: a desire for the future that kept them going. 

But when I looked at my soaked figure in the mirror, and through my dampened eyes, I realised with a gut-wrenching sob, that my dream had been shattered. 


	12. The Child of Essentia

Chapter 12 – The Child of Essentia 

_//Your angels speak with jilted tongues//_

"What keeps waking you in the night?"

That question had repeated itself over and over again, frustratingly echoing inside my head since Legolas had escorted me back to my room. A shadow of the answer had been looming in my mind, and I could not help but feel a lingering doubt. Something was missing. 

I stayed up all through the night, sitting on my balcony watching the misty moon cast her pale light onto my skin as the translucent light eventually broke into dawn. The hours that I had spent awake took their toll as I glanced at my face through the mirror, shadowed rings under my eyes as proof of my lack of sleep. I stumbled tiredly out the door, my mind too preoccupied to noticed where my feet were leading me. 

Not noticing the bright sunlight unusually filtering away to dimness, I sleepily took the nearest set of staircases that I found. A narrow flight of steps wound down, occasional gaps in the stone wall allowing light to flow through. Padding down the steps, my eyes began to adjust to the change in light in the restricted stairwell as I followed the winding steps. Eventually, the gaps in the wall stopped, and flamed torches hung on the walls, giving off an eerie glow of light. Just as my head was beginning to awaken, and uncertainty filled my mind about where the stairs were leading, a large metal gate loomed at the end of the passageway. Beyond it lay a straight path, leading into darkness where the light from the torches could not reach.

Lightly touching the cold bars, I noticed that it hung slightly open. Just as my hand lingered to push the gate open, a small gold plaque caught my eye at the head of the stone wall. 

_A baby's cry may be heard,_

_But pay no heed to the child's words._

_Beware the dungeon of foul play,_

_For you may not see the light of day._

Suddenly a shrill wail pierced the silence, a baby's cry that echoed through from inside the gate that sent an alarming chill up my spine, making me quiver slightly. I glanced uneasily at the plaque, unsure whether or not to venture forward. Flicking my head back, I checked to make sure that no one was behind me. That sudden urge of wariness sent a bolt of suspicion through me but before my mind could protest, I had removed a torch from the wall and extended a steady hand, pushing the black gate open. It swung back with a heavy groan, hitting the wall with a loud clang, immediately silencing the strident cries.

The hazy glow from the torch only reached a few feet in front, leaving me to walk with caution through the winding passages that started to grow increasingly cooler. With one hand against the wall, the other extending the torch in front of me, I continued deeper and started to feel moisture on the wall that my hand was skimming against. Soon my hand was completely wet and a dank smell emerged from the ever-continuing tunnel. Several puddles of water lay about the uneven floor, shimmering off reflections of yellow light in their small ripples.

Suddenly, just as the gate had emerged out of the gloom as before, a branch in the tunnel appeared, one leading straight into a continuing gloomy darkness, and the other up a roughly cut flight of stairs. Pausing at the fork, I frowned at the two courses of direction. Just as I was contemplating sending orbs out, a tiny whisper of melodious humming came drifting through the cavern, echoing off the walls. I shut my eyes, concentrating on the direction from which the soft music had wafted from, letting my feet _//saviour of the light//_ guide me. As I shuffled forward, eyes still scrunched close, I could hear the humming grow ever so slightly louder, until I my feet hit the bottom of a stair, sending me tumbling forward. 

I landed on a hard-edged stair with a loud grunt. I was now in complete darkness as I had let go of my torch in the fall and it had rolled into one of the puddles in the ground. From where I sat on the stair, I could hear the last faint hisses of the flame in water. A strong trepidation started to beat from my heart, and I started to regret my foolishness for venturing so deeply into the castle. But my streak of curiousity had not been put out so easily like the torch in the puddle, and I carefully stood, palms bracing the sides of the wall. 

Using an orb had occurred to me, but I decided not to risk it. Some of the Lady's wisdom had rubbed off on me; I knew that I had not the power to carry an orb, no matter the size or power for a long period of time, and I did not particularly wish to be stranded in a dank tunnel until my strength returned. So I slowly made my way up the gravelly stairs, hesitating at each step to find my footing.

The stairs continued up and up, and my breath had started to grow shorter as the air grew tighter around me. Just as before, the stairs abruptly ended at a bend in the stairwell and my eyes adjusted to white light glowing in the centre of a large room. Surprised that I had not seen the light from the stairs, I was even more dumbfounded at the sight of a little girl sitting by herself on a wooden stool, her hands daintily crossed on her lap, on which lay a pair of worn ballet slippers. She was dressed in a white performance ensemble, her sleeveless leotard meeting the same impeccable white skirt at her waist that was fringed with a layer of tulle.

The child's slightly streaked blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun high on her head, wrapped in a black hairnet, her back rim rod straight with perfect posture as she sat with her ankles crossed on the stool. She had icy blue eyes that stared straight ahead at an unknown spot in the stone wall in front and around her, her lips pressed into a thin line. 

I warily stepped forward from the edge of the stairs towards the little girl. Without even a flicker of her eyes, the child extended a hand from her lap and a crystal-clear orb formed in the palm of her small hand. Then it dawned on me. 

I stepped forward and knelt on the ground, reaching eye contact with the girl with the orb between us. Not breaking the gaze of her azure eyes pass my face, she opened her mouth to speak. A twist of Elvish and English came out, the two alternating between a whispering echo and a normal voice. Both seemed to be that of the little girl's. 

"Laire Carn, daughter of Pallando, one of the _Ithryn Luin_ of the Istari, blood of the Immortal, possessor of the Orbs of Nessa, I greet you."

Looking past the clear orb that lay still in her hand, I gazed at the little girl sitting in the stool, the ballet slippers still sitting steadily in her lap, cushioned by the layers of her tutu.

"Who are you?" I asked, though I already had an inkling of the answer.

For the first time, her piercing eyes reached mine and a slight look of mockery settled in her startling sharp eyes. 

"You already know," she replied, "Need you hear it out loud, Everlasting One?"

I did not answer, merely fixating my eyes more firmly on her slightly intimidating ones. 

Her face still as neutral as ever, she said,

"I'm you."

A/N: My latest update!! I will be leaving the previous Author's Note up for a while for those who may have missed it or not been on ff.net lately. 

As I said, the story has taken a different route and some of you may have noticed that I have finally figured out how to include my Word formatting onto ff.net, so if you have been confused with some of Summer's thoughts or lyrics included in the story, I suggest you flip back through the chapters because bold/italics has been added. 

So here's a long chappy for those I have nastily neglected in almost 2 or 3 months…I apologise profusely again. Btw, the names that the Child greets Summer by when she meets her are actually researched notes that I picked up from The Encyclopaedia of Arda, a _very_ good site for bground info on everything to do with Middle Earth. Interesting fact: Nessa (one of the Valar) who I said that Summer possessed the Orbs of, actually liked _dancing_ on the lawns of Valimar. Coincidence? I think not!

Thanks to all who have reviewed and please keep them coming!! 


	13. Pushing the Boundaries

Chapter 13 – Pushing the Boundaries

_//Don't go too far. Limitation scars.//_

It seemed odd, not having a usual hysterical reaction. It seemed normal to scream, or faint, or even cry, but none of that occurred as I nodded slowly to the little girl … _me_. It also seemed strange referring to her as me; my mind had not adjusted to the fact that my younger-self was sitting in front of me…I suppose it wasn't an idea that was easily adjustable to. 

She eyed me curiously before gazing back to the crystal orb in her small palm. Following her, I concentrated on the orb as black started to cloud around its edges, slowly filling it. Suddenly, the gruesome red eye that haunted me a few days back flashed through the globe, and I jumped. My heart pounding with swift fear, I stared as the view in the little girl's palm revolved around a field, dusted in shadow. Two people, facing each other stood there, some distance between them, rigid and bracing themselves for an opponent unknown to me. I saw rain begin to fall, the grass glistening with moisture. Lightning cracked, and as quickly as the bright light faded, one of them had their arm raised preparing to strike. Then the scene faded, and the orb returned back to its original crystalline form.

I slumped back against my ankles, my knees beginning to ache from my kneeling position. 

"What was that?" I asked, tilting my head to meet her eyes again.

With a small snap, the orb was gone, and the little girl withdrew her hand, placing it delicately in her lap once again. As I looked in her eyes, I realised how similar her chilling blue gaze was to the Lady Galadriel's.  

"That is the battle awaiting you on the Pelennor Fields, a fortnight away," she replied, her voice still a combination of Elvish and English. 

"What battle?" I asked, confused.

"The one that determines the fate of Middle Earth. The battle between you and your father."

Cue hysterical outburst. I exploded with laughter, as the little girl in front of me waited patiently, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. 

"Gondor had just faced a war! How is it possible to face another battle that involves the whole of this Earth?!" I exclaimed, puffed for breath from my laughter.

Holding her calm tone, the child replied, "I never said anything about _Gondor_. I said that this was _your_ battle."

The smile from my face died away. 

"What do you mean, exactly? How will the outcome affect me?" I asked softly. 

The stone room suddenly seemed too quiet after my loud laughter. I could feel the conversation drawing to a close.

The little girl stood from her wooden stool. Clutching her old satin shoes in one hand, she pressed a surprisingly warm palm to my forehead. A small, knowing smile gathered on her lips.

"This is the time to show the world your power, Laire Carn. Be not afraid."

The last thing I remember of the little girl was her piercing sapphire gaze into mine.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I woke, startled, and nearly fell out of the chair on my balcony. Blinking jadedly, I rose and stretched my aching muscles. I looked around the balcony, puzzled. A peculiar sense of déjà vu started seeping in, as I entered my bedroom.  Hurriedly changing out of my nightgown, I ran down the corridor to find the set of staircases that I had previously taken. I kept running down the shadowy passageway, the shade cast by huge windows along the wall, only to find locked wooden doors at the end. 

Frustrated, I pounded my fists against it. I shrieked when the doors were suddenly pulled open, revealing a disgruntled Legolas. 

"I-I'm so sorry! Didn't mean to wake you, I mean, of course I didn't. But you know what I mean, don't you? It's not like I go around pounding on people's doors this early in the morning – " I rambled, before being cut off by Legolas' finger on my lips. 

"Did you wake me for a reason, Summer?" he asked, amused.

I shook my head, withdrawing my lips from his touch. My cheeks started to burn up again, and there was a warm line against my lips. I spun around and dashed back down the hallway, ignoring his calls.

Pushing my embarrassment down, I raced through the castle, determined to find my mentor. In one of the chambers I passed Arwen, who pointed me to one of the secluded gardens outside. There I found the Lady, in one of her meditative states, and I collapsed on the lush grass in front of her, panting from my darts through the castle.

"I need answers," I pleaded, interrupting her tranquil state. 

"Answers come to those who seek for it willfully enough, not for the sake of personal satisfaction," she replied with her eyes still shut.

I knew it was pointless trying to argue her point. The Lady's comments were always wise, and unless you were as astute as her, or incredibly dumb, you knew not to maintain your argument. So I answered as truthfully as possible.

"I seek answers not for self-gain, my Lady, but for ease of mind."

"Is that not the same thing, child?" she said, opening her eyes, "for is not ease of mind for your own satisfaction?"

I sighed resignedly. If she was going to help me, she'd have to do it of her own accord.

"Summer, I know of your dreams. What answers do you need? Why do you question what has already been decided?"

"Already decided? You mean the battle's been planned?" I asked, shocked.

"No, dear child. Nothing has been planned. But it is the decision of the Valar that you will face your father in battle." She explained calmly.

_//Don't push too hard.// _

Holding my temper was never one of my strong points.

"The _Valar_?! You cannot make me do this! I will not fight my father!" I yelled.

"Hold your tongue, Summer," the Lady warned, "your outcome in battle will decide the fate of this world, and you cannot run away."

"Don't make me do this, Galadriel, I cannot win," I whispered.

She pressed her cool hands _//so unlike the girl's…mine…//_ against my face like my mother used to, and said, "It is not a matter of winning, Laire. Good can never triumph over evil as long as life exists. It merely holds it. Gondor held Sauron, as will you hold your father in the palm of your hand."

"I have two weeks," I said.

The Lady nodded, her golden tresses fluttering slightly. 

"Meet me here, ere noon. We have much to prepare."

I ran back into the castle towards my room. Just as I turned the corner, an arm blocked my way and I looked up to see Legolas. 

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly. 

_//Limitation scars.//_

I hesitated. Two days ago, I couldn't stand him. Now…

Grabbing his hand, I pulled him towards my room. 

A/N: Omg, I don't know where to start. It's been 4 MONTHS since I've updated at ff.net and trust me, the guilt is overwhelming. Many would probably think I'm super-slack, leaving my stories for an age in the middle like that, but I really haven't found the time or incentive to write. 

So to make a long apology short, I'm SO sorry for deserting my readers and story and to warn you now that my updating patterns are EXTREMELY irregular. So don't count on anything to be delivered on time. I have a 2-week break now and I'll try to update as much as possible before I return to school. After that, my next update might not be till June, so beware!

Please keep reviewing!


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